Her Window is A Lighthouse
by Just A Writer For Now
Summary: With Jim in community college, he doesn't have much time to see Trixie anymore. Will that stop him from making sure she's not up to trouble? One shot.
1. Her Window Is A Lighthouse

** Okay, so I decided that instead of reading my homework for college, or even working on my on-going fanfiction, I was going to write a Jim and Trixie one-shot. I don't own the characters, because if I did, we would have republished all of the books and then made a movie to go with it. Enjoy!**

Jim sighed as he pulled into the driveway of Manor House. It seemed as though everyday his professors gave him more homework than the day before. And this was only community college. He wondered how horrible the workload would be when he transferred to the big university upstate.

Jim came to a stop and turned off his car. Stepping out, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked inside, not paying attention to the spring night complete with stars and a full moon. Preoccupied with a paper that he was mentally writing, he forgot to look over at Crabapple Farm. He did every night. With college slowly absorbing Jim like an amoeba absorbs food, he didn't have enough time to visit Trixie. And now Trixie had her driver's license, she was pretty much unstoppable.

A snort managed to come out of Jim as he saw Trixie pacing around her room. She was probably on a case. She almost always was. It was what kept her from visiting Jim when he actually had time. He remembered the time he'd slipped the bracelet on her hand; it felt like such a long time ago. They'd grown apart. At least, she had become more obsessed with her shamus-ing and Jim hadn't taken the time to keep up with her. He could've kicked himself for just letting them grow apart. But he didn't. All he did was look over at Crabapple Farm when he pulled in from college.

Well, he checked up on her later every night too. His father's library overlooked the Belden's farm and Jim studied in the library every night. He didn't watch Trixie in her room—that was just disturbing. But Jim stayed up into the wee sma's writing papers and reading textbooks. He knew that high school wasn't demanding enough to keep Trixie up until one in the morning. So when Jim left the library every night, he peeked out the window to see whether or not Trixie's light was on. Her window was a lighthouse, shining a beacon of warning to Jim about whether or not Trixie was getting up to trouble.

That night, Jim finished his homework early for once. It was ten-thirty. He glanced out the window, ready for a full night's sleep for once. But that thought flew out of his mind when he saw Trixie sitting out on her front porch, staring at the night sky.

"It's time you patched things up, Frayne," he told himself sternly. Grabbing a light jacket, he ran down the stairs and burst out of the front door of the Manor House. Red hair gleaming in the moonlight, Jim Frayne raced over to Crabapple Farm.

Trixie saw Jim and waved unenthusiastically.

"Hello Jim," she said.

"Hey Trixie." The silence had already sprung up between them. Jim was regretting his moment of spontaneity. "How's the case?"

"Just fine," Trixie said shortly, before doing a double-take. "How'd you know I was—"

Jim didn't answer right away. "Your window is a lighthouse." he muttered finally.

"What?"

"Every night before I put my books up and go to bed, I look out at Crabapple Farm and see if your light's still on. If it is, you're on a case. I know you wouldn't be up at one in the morning for any other reason."

Trixie stared at Jim. "You watch my window?"

"More like just see if the light is on. Anything else and it would just be weird," Jim joked, trying to lighten the mood. "I can stop if it bothers you."

"No," Trixie said slowly. "It's just…I thought that with you in college and all…I guess I thought you were too busy to think about me."

She was blushing a little bit in the moonlight. It was these few moments that Trixie let her tender side come through that made Jim like the girl detective even more.

"I'm never too busy to think about you," Jim said, sitting down on the porch step next to Trixie and putting his arm around her. "I couldn't function without my schoolgirl shamus."

Trixie smiled at him, before rolling her eyes. "A lighthouse?"

"Hey, my English professor's metaphors are rubbing off on me."

Another silence sprung up, but it was a comfortable one. Jim finally broke it.

"Are we okay?"

"We're okay," Trixie said leaning her head on Jim's shoulder and letting her eyes droop. Jim sighed. This was only the beginning. But he didn't think that this journey would be as arduous as his college journey. Besides, he had a lighthouse to show him the way.

**There's this thing called a review. J It makes me happy, it makes you happy. There's just no losing in this situation.**


	2. I Always Have and I Always Will

**Well, I wasn't expecting so many people to like my one-shot. So I got a happy surprise! It also took a little bit for me to decide what I wanted to write next. So I just got another fluffy little one-shot, but this one's told with Trixie in mind.**

Trixie was glad that Jim was spending more time with her. But there was one fly in the ointment. He was now _involved_ in her life. Since the Bob-Whites were no longer a fully functioning club, Trixie could get away with not seeing any of her friends for a couple of days. This meant that she could investigate, get involved in cases and do her detective-ing whenever she felt like it. There were no admonitions for putting her nose where it didn't belong; there were no refusals to drive her to the scene of the crime. For one time in her life, Trixie Belden held the key to her future and she liked that. It gave her control in a time when she was losing control; Brian was in another state studying medicine and Mart was working at their uncle's farm while studying for college. Trix had been left alone and had decided to capitalize on this. But now Jim was back in her life. And that wasn't a bad thing; but she had to hide what she was doing from Jim. Jim wouldn't want her in trouble. But Trixie could handle herself; she had for the last year.

"What have you been up to, Miss Shamus?" Jim asked as he pulled himself out of his car. Trixie had been waiting on the stoop of the Manor House, because he'd called and asked if she wanted to go for a walk after he came back.

"Oh, nothing," Trixie said, brightly. She didn't want to tell him what she was working on. There had been a report of marijuana being sold in school and she'd spent all of last evening slinking through the alleys behind the school hoping to get a lead.

"Really?" Jim was doubtful. Trixie could have kicked herself. She should've had a backup story, some excuse about boring math homework.

"Just staying out of trouble." That was weak. Jim would know she was up to something. Even Trixie would admit that she didn't stay out of trouble.

"You're lying," Jim didn't sound disappointed, like her parents would. Her parents were missing their sons and were taking out their loneliness on Trixie. She thought she might be smothered by their constant queries about school, their continuous requests for her to stay home and have dinner with them. It had never been a problem, her missing dinner, when Mart and Brian were at home. But now there was tension and much more expectation put on Trixie, now that she was the oldest at home. She was tired of it, and was glad to note that Jim wasn't angry with her for avoiding the question. He seemed almost curious instead.

"Not exactly, Jim." Trixie said. She sighed and stood up next to him. He should have already sat down, but he hadn't. Maybe he was mad after all.

"Then what have you been up to?" Jim was persistent.

"Well, I've been fighting with my parents," Trixie said. Again, she could have kicked herself. While what she said was true, she would much rather tell Jim about her case then actually talk about her personal problems.

"Oh?" Jim still wasn't revealing much emotion.

"Yeah," Trixie decided to go with it. "They're really missing Mart and Brian. Moms especially. She starts flipping out whenever I come home late, or miss dinner, or do anything that I used to do. I think it's because when I'm gone, the house is just Moms and Bobby. That's it. And I guess it's pretty lonely, and I guess I understand, but I really just want to..." Trixie trailed off as Jim leaned in and kissed her.

He'd never kissed her before.

Trixie pulled away after a moment, wide-eyed. Jim kissed like he knew what he was doing. She wanted to ask him who he'd kissed besides her.

"Tell me what you're up to now," Jim said, smiling finally.

"Fine, I'm looking into who's selling marijuana at the school," she admitted. She looked at Jim suspiciously.

"And why was that such a horrible secret?"  
"Because I know my parents would be pretty angry to hear that I was hiding in alleys waiting to see if I could catch a lead."

"They probably would," Jim said, laughing a little. "But I think it isn't too bad of a case. You've been through worse."

Trixie raised an eyebrow. "Is Jim Frayne allowing me to work on a case?"

Jim kissed her again.

"That's a 'yes', if you didn't know," he said, laughing a little. "Trixie Belden, I don't think there's anything I can do when you're on a case."

"No, there's not," she said, "So you're just going to have to roll with the punches."

"I always have. And I always will."

**I kind of surprised myself by throwing Mart and Brian in different states. Would anyone be interested in finding out what those two brothers are up to? **


	3. The Moral Of Brian Belden's Sotry

**Well. It had been awhile hasn't it. *Awkwardly laughs* Well, I was stumped for ages, but I think I finally found something short and sweet about Brian. It might be little OOC, I'm not sure. But it was worth a one-shot. (Lame pun, I know.)**

* * *

Brian Belden had overworked himself. He wouldn't admit it for an instant to anyone, not even himself. He had signed up for six more credit hours than any normal pre-med student would take and was volunteering at the local hospital in his free time. There hadn't been much time to call or write home, but he was sure that they were all fine. He was sure Jim was watching out for Trixie and that Honey was keeping her out of trouble.

He missed the Bob-Whites. But this was his dream; the one he'd had forever. It was right within his grasp and if he only pushed himself a little bit harder he could grab it and have it. It wasn't fair that it took so long to become a doctor. So he had decided to just keep at it until he made it through med school.

He was living on his own, so there wasn't a roommate to tell Brian to get some sleep when Brian had been studying for four hours straight. There wasn't a roommate to make Brian eat three meals a day. The only person Brian had was Annie. Annie was a fellow pre-med student who, with the help of her boyfriend Todd, tried to get Brian to come to a party every Friday night.

Maybe it was the exhaustion that Brian didn't realize he was suffering from, but when Annie gave Brian the customary invitation to a party, with Todd saying, "Come on, Belden, it'll be fun. The guys really know how to throw a bash." Brian Belden said yes.

Which is how Brian Belden found himself in a fraternity house, clutching a plastic red cup, not knowing a soul. Annie and Todd had said that they'd be back in just a minute to take him home, but they'd abandoned him in the middle of a party. Not knowing what to do, Brian sipped at the drink in his hand. He'd never drank before; there had been parties at Sleepyside, but he'd always avoided the alcohol. It was an odd flavor, burning a bit as it went down. He didn't enjoy it, but for some reason, he kept sipping at it. He couldn't even remember what it was. He'd taken it from one of the jovial fraternity boys, who winked and said, "That'll give you a pick-me up. You sure look like you need one."

Brian wondered why everyone, even complete strangers seemed so worried about him. He was doing fine. In fact, he'd never felt more fine than at that moment in time. Every other bit of his life seemed meaningless and inconsequential.

Laughing, Brian climbed down the steps of the fraternity, crushing his plastic cup and throwing it out on the lawn with the hundred others. No wonder Annie and Todd had made him come; he'd never felt so wonderful.

Wonderful? Full of wonder? Wonder of the full? He shook his head, for it had suddenly blurred with having to think of one word.

"Watch where you're going!" Someone shouted, shoving past Brian. Brian had never picked a fight in his life; Crabapple Farm had raised him into an upstanding gentleman of the first class, as Mart used to say. But for some reason, being pushed aside and yelled at by a stranger angered Brian. Before he knew what he was doing he threw a punch, grazing the other boy's left ear. The other boy turned and Brian muttered his first curse word under his breath. His adversary was at least a hundred pounds heavier.

It only took one punch to fling Brian into the concrete of one of the dorms.

"What an idiot," the guy said as he continued on to his destination.

Brian's head cleared, and maybe it was just how drunk he was, but he realized that he needed to call home. Right now. He ran to the nearest payphone, pulling quarters out of his pocket and fumbling with the dial. He didn't even know what number he was dialing.

"Hello?" The voice, clear and feminine sounded nothing like his sister. Or his mother, for that matter.

"Honey?" He asked, hoping his words were less slurred than he thought they sounded. Suddenly he felt ashamed of calling home when he was like this. "Is Trixie there?"

"She's at Crabapple Farm," Honey sounded confused, "It's ten at night Brian. Are you alright?"

Brian laughed. He'd dialed the Manor House. It was an honest mistake, but he laughed and kept laughing, letting his long tenor of a laugh stretch through the dark streets of his campus.

"Brian? Are you okay?" Honey was concerned now.

"Honey, I'm fine," he laughed again, "Did you ever realize that I can't call you Honey when I want to be sweet to you? It'd just be your name."

Honey was silent on the other line, but before Brian could ask if she'd hung up, a little laugh escaped the receiver. "Are you drunk, Brian?"

"Probably." And Brian laughed because he was drunk. He was so drunk.

"Well, darling, I'd head home if I were you. And don't worry about anything…you'll forget it in the morning."

Brian Belden had stopped overworking himself. Brian Belden went home frequently to see his family and friends. But for the life of him, Brian Belden never drank something unless he knew what had been put in it. Because he couldn't remember most of the night he called home, except that Honey had to be involved since Trixie told him that it was bad taste to call the Manor House when one was drunk. And Honey would only smile and say that it wasn't a problem at all.


End file.
